Prologue

The year is 2384. It has been 304 years since the Great War which sent the world into a slow degeneration, and a return to its once, in comparison, glory days seems quite unlikely. Ever since the massive nuclear wipe out that it was the world has been absolutely filled with horrors and pains never before perceived. And with these horrors, it seemed, also came heroes. Though the term is used loosely, large groups of people attempting to "help" to the height of their extent have sprouted up to aid in their own ways. Be it for their own selfish reasons, in pursuit of strength and control, or for actual peace among the wastelands. But in every case the former would always prevail. No one cares for the world anymore. And the past 200 hundreds years have been a worse hell than before.

However that was all only the case until the Black Night. Not many years after the great war itself, when the world was finally beginning to adjust to the best of its ability, the sky had grown dark and the mutated wildlife grew frantic. Many were confused, not knowing what it was that the sudden cataclysmic event meant, and many were outright curious. For many it could have been a shot of hope. Some form of ultimate divination. But it was not so.

With the Black Night, an event hardly understandable other than folk lore, many more mutations and horrors filled the world, spreading from the landing zone specifically. Much that the world had only dreamed of until this point. Demonic beasts with high power and speed, with deadly claws and gnashing teeth. Demons of the desert and mountains. As well as the demons of the earth. Risen people of the land, climbing from the grime of the grave to feast upon that of the living in a frantic rage. These beasts spread through the regions quickly, numbing down as they went, and integrated into the world as lore, and reason as to not leave the boundaries of sanctuary.

But the demons were not the worse threat that the world was now presented with. But the inhabitants of this destroyed planet themselves.

In the wake of the Black Night came waves of exhaustion and suicide. Many individuals took their own lives, in many different ways, from creative to common. The most primary way of death being that many would jump from high places to land directly on their own head. And many were seen, mid fall, with no expression but that of a smile filled with content and resolution. No one truly knew why this happened. Many were broken further. And the only place of hatred sat with the black star, the relic, which fell to earth on the Black Night. However there were many with will-power strong enough to resist the urge of death. And the lineage of these went on, and matured with time, giving shape to those known as the Chosen. People with unique gifts, or abilities, varying from person to person. And with these unique abilities many realized just how dark the human race can truly sink to. Many of these Chosen came to light. Each more cruel than the last, with unrelenting force they swept the world, each with a single goal:

Locate the relic.

Of course with the villains, no matter how few, true heroes came as well. With their own trivial dark sides, their pursuit of good still outweighed the pursuit of evil. And in the current era, with that title, stood the now infamous resistance known as Night-Watch.

Standing at the lead of this group stands Captain Connor Reese. A power strategist, having once been a prestigious Colonel of the NCR – the New California Republic – but now is the leader of a small community. He is in fact a chosen, as is his more prominent colleagues. Personally holding the unique metaphysical ability of "limited atomic separation", or in other words the ability to become intangible and be untouched by majority of the objects in this world. Effective with a lazer rifle as well as a traditional old-world Japanese melee weapon known as the katana, and using his powerful ability, he leads the rag tag group of his rebellious comrades on his own pursuit of the relic.

Another member of the group named Jake holds as the stronger backbone. Being a lone orphan since birth, abandoned at the foot of his perished mother in the rain, he was picked up by a vile group known as the Outcasts. At a young age Jake was exposed to the experiences of murder, rape, and sadism. As well as his ability to lace his own body with enormous heat at will. At the age of 16 he had realized his new-found family members held him back from his full militant potential, and as thus he then slaughtered his entire faction encampment and further raped the woman slaves and slayed them as well, leaving none alive, before venturing out alone into the rocky wastelands of Old-New Mexico. On his travels he was picked up by the BoS – the Brotherhood of Steel – and eventually the same event transpired. And now he finds himself with Night Watch. The only assurance of his loyalty being that he personally enjoys the company of the others, and does not feel judged or limited.

The third of five main member is a man known as Alex. An ex-NCR survivalist expert who has seen majority of the wastelands of America, and has survived them all. He travels the regions with his faithful hound, Sassy, named after his great uncle's pet dog, which he so adored. And with whome he enjoys whole-hearted conversation, using his odd ability to communicate with and thrall wildlife. He searches for new knowledge of the wastelands and how to triumph them, even going so far as to learn the secrets from the beasts making them so dangerous. And no adventure better than that spent out with his comrades.

The fourth member is Doctor Dexter. The sociopath. A ridiculously skilled robotics and neuron-surgeon, gifted from his young age of being only 17 currently, he travels with the group simply because he can and enjoys the company of his fellow violent-thralled enthusiasts. At the age of 8 he was implemented into an insane asylum, cruelly ran by the NCR in eastern Old-Oregon in hopes of evening out the crazy and sane. Merely 6 years later he had learned the ins-and-outs of the facility and managed to go unstopped as he strategically killed all inhabitants of the entire facility. Once having left the building he found his way to the resistance and their he now works as their doctor, as well as their experimenter. As well Dexter, so far, is the only of the five mains that has no discovered ability.

And then the final, and most recent addition, member of the group's primary force would be that of the mercenary Shadow. Not much is known about Shadow in terms of majority of his life. The reason for this being that while he does speak his mind, with a rather harsh and cynical nature in that, Shadow is not entirely one for over-talking. He does not trust many, and as thus his background only lies with the few. For no secret can be best kept except by the dead. Shadow's contribution is that he, among any that the gang has ever met, is one of the most reliable sharpshooters and scouts to ever enter the wastelands and make a name for himself. To all records Shadow has never fired a round and not hit his intended targets. This unique statistic is thanks to his ability, which manifests as more of a physical mutation, granting him blood red eyes with multiple crossed pupils in the shape of branches, or cross hairs. Near to nothing escapes his gaze. And many pray to never be in his sights. Although with all of this, one thing is known of the mercenary: He is there own volition. Once payed, once the money stopped rolling he continued to stay and aid the resistance. For whatever reason Shadow trusts this group, and will increasingly open from his dark, and bloody, background to them.

These five men of high caliber, met with a fair community of men and women and children back at their home headquarters of Haven, fight against the perilous wastelands of the world in pursuit of their goals. While each individual has their own personal agenda, they all strive together for their one universal goal:

To bring peace to Hell. And they intend to do this, no matter how much blood must be spilled and splattered. And their will assuredly be plenty of it to go around.

This is their story.

Chapter 1

The sand brushed against the tents of the encampment, whipping them back and forth without tearing them from their bases, large metal tent pegs driven deep to prevent it. Men and women meandered through the camp, occasionally stopping to converse with one another, but primarily keeping an eye out past the make-shift wood fence perimeter, watching out for any guests, both beast and sentient alike.

For in this instant they were holding quite the intriguing guest. The infamous Captain Connor Reese, leader of the Night-Watch resistance. Held firmly in place, tied to a metal framed chair, the guest was being interrogated within their own leader's primary tent of location of his generals. Even over the rough wind the harsh impacts could be heard.

Pacing from side to side, the acclaimed leader of the Blak Hawks gang, Sorient Addams, began to become absolutely infuriated. "How long until you give up the charade, Reese!? We both know your coward comrades won't save you this time! Now spill your guts and answer my goddamn question already: Where. Is. Your. Base. Located!?"

Panting heavily, dyed blood oozing slowly down his brow and from his lips, tinged with deep hues of red, flowing like spoiled ketchup. Slowly raising his head, staring the large man above him in the eye, he wavers slightly as his chest heaves in breath. His eyes glassed at the reality, he glanced to and from both of his shoes in thought, deciding. "Fine... I'll talk... You just.. Head north up the old highway.. and when you reach the first exit.. you can kiss my a-!"

Blood splattered against the tent wall in unison with the sickening sound of the Addam's fist coming into contact with Reese's cheek.

"Stop screwing with me, Reese! You know I'm not punching at my full capacity yet. And how much blood have you lost thus far?"

"Hah... Uhm.. I'm not quite sure. I'm sure if you push the sides of your head together and use your skull as a scoop, then I'm sure you could get it all and measure i-."

Another hit, causing Reese to tilt for a moment on the edge of the chair, as though it would crash to the side, before slamming back on all fours and rocking slightly.

"God, I'm just gonna' have to sew your fucking lips together, aren't I?"

"... If you think it'll help."

Addams was growing impatient, and with every snarky remark, he could feel himself about to just outright kill the man. "Do you really think it'd be wise if I were to, oh I don't know, activate my Ability?" At the statement Reese's gaze shot up at him, almost daring but at the same time in hope he wouldn't, slightly laced with confusion. "My guess is you didn't know? Odd. I thought you mongrels did all types of research, with that famous scout you've got. Yeah, you don't need to feign the lack-of on that. We know you have that mercenary on your team. And that psycho-bitch cannon. Whoever the hell he was, with background with both Outcast and Brotherhood of Steel. Still has their helmet, I believe. I don't know. We can't very well catch them, now can we mister lock-and-key? Now.. I'll give you another chance, OK? Either tell me where your friends are at and then die a quick death, or I'll rip off your lower jaw and use it to ladle my soup tonight while you get slowly eaten by my pet, Roxanne. What will it be?"

Looking up, Reese grins. "What about the option where you and I go out for non-radiated coffee and watch a pre-war chick flick? I rather like that one where the convulsive woman travels half way across the globe for the foolish goal of reuniting with her boy toy of whom she has never met with before... Oh wait.. That's most of them. Well I don't really mind. Any suggestions, though?"

Addams does his best to breathe in and out, slowly, trying not to lose his moderate hold on control. Its difficult. Part of him really wants to punch in the man's skull and then use it as a bowl for his cereal in the morning. But the rest of him knows he needs this low-life if he is to find the Vault Keys they posses. He needs those keys. It will be him who locates the artifact and gains immortal power. It must be him. There can be no one else.

With a slight snarl he punches Reese a few more times. Reese doesn't seem too fond of the experience himself, but he's holding up. That is one thing that he'll give to the snake bastard. He can hold his own. With a final punch he sighs and steps away, allowing Reese's head to sway side to side as blood drips and mingles with the dirt floor below.

"Huuh... Your friends will not come for you anymore. You dogs may be insistent, but we took plenty of precautions bringing you in. With all our planning, with our scheming. Watching your trail through different criers. Through rumors and piecing together the true versus the false. We nabbed you, sent off different trails. They will not come! They cannot!" He was becoming furious, disoriented even. This was going on further than he wanted it to. It had to come to an end. Reese was way too relaxed for the position he's in. He even seemed to be laughing.

Chuckling to himself, Reese slowly rose his head with a mean glare. "Heh... Your planning? You haven't seen through the ruse yourself."

"... What? What are you talking about!?" This was new. The fool was trying to barter his way out with his bluffs. Addams began pacing back and forth, quickening his step, his furious gaze on the man before him. " I'm beginning to wonder of you really are the prized strategists the stories portray, or just a weak, powerless fool. Who does not even no when to shut his trap, no matter how much he should." Reese just smiled and glared back at him. He even went so far as to wink. "Rr... You are really trying my patience!" Addams suddenly jumps forward at him. His fist risen and cocked. Moments after his initial lunge, the very anatomy of his fist seemed to alter into a new, deep brown shape of flat points and spikes. "Just die already!"

"Idiot... You didn't see this coming-."

At that moment a massive explosion went off outside, several shouts of pain followed as the now crippled screamed out in confusion and turmoil. The camp was instantly in chaos, searching for the source. Several pieces of shrapnel shot in through the tent side and slammed into the carcass of one of the Blak Hawk soldiers several feet from Addams. His eyes went wide as he was thrown back onto the ground, skidding slightly into one of the sturdy wooden beams supporting the tent, as he snapped his attention back to Reese.

-Of course, we knew that coming in. We are not stupid."

"... What..? B-But... Our planning.."

"A: You failed. And, B: Our planning." Almost as if the restraints didn't even exist, Reese rose up from the seat, raising a hand to rub and crack the side of his neck. "Honestly. What did you expect? Bring in the leader of one of the most renown groups in western America with no repercussions, really? Again: We are not stupid."

"... But... How did?" The man had been rendered speechless. He was now the fool.

"Alright... Now then. Down to the reason why I came here." Pacing across the tent, no one daring to so much as approach the man, he arrives at a rusted locker, among others, and threw it open. Within were his personal belongings that he had had with him. To think the idiots would find it wise to leave his confections so close to himself. Of course, as the other factors, he knew they were that stupid and thoughtless. Gathering up his small armor pieces and placing them to their locations, primarily wrist guards and a shoulder plate. As well would be his nap sack which he slung around his shoulder, as well as his weapons, which were as well slung over his shoulders: A TIA749 Delta lazer-single rifle with a fore-grip and magnetic, shock absorbing stock, and a 5 ft katana. "OK," turning on his heel towards the man who just a moment before was the man with the plan, placing his hands in his pockets and stepping forward, "while my men deal with yours, how about showing me to your stockade of maps and land navigation devices then, hm? I know you have a neat little collection, and I must say:-"

Addams stared up at him as he paced over to him, half a grin on his face, and eyes that pierced his soul with dangerous apathy. He gulped slightly, blood dripping down his brow where he hit the beam, mixing with dirt and obscuring his vision. Reese chuckled at his fear, and continued on.

-I am such a huge fan of accurate topography charts dating before the War. How about you?"